“Adkins, we are due to stay in London for one more week, are we not?”
“We are, sir.”
“Must we do so? I would rather return to Thornehills and speak to my mother about the building of our own glass cone. It is all very well, idling in Town, but there is work to do and I might much prefer that.”
“What of Nellie, Master Samuel? Are you to take her as well?”
“Good God, no, Adkins! Why should I wish to do that? She is a whore, Adkins. A pleasant girl, in her way, but not the sort to bring home to one’s mother! No doubt we can find another in her place when we are settled back at home.”
Adkins apologised; he had thought his master had found an affection for the girl.
“Well, yes, Adkins, she is a very pleasant armful, but nothing more, you know. We can find her an extra five guineas as a farewell and that will be that. Good of you to lay your hands on her for me, Adkins. I expect you can do the same in Leek. Might have to set up a cottage there, of course. I am sure my mother will not object to the cost.”
Adkins said no more – it was not the sort of thing he might have discussed with his own mother when he had been of that age. Perhaps he should mention the matter to Mr Nick.
Nick was much in favour of setting up a cottage with Mr Samuel’s peculiar ensconced.
“Better far that the young man should amuse himself innocuously, Adkins. Easily possible to find a bright, healthy, willing young miss to accommodate him and keep him free from vice. Much better he should be amused thus than behave foolishly as so many young men do.”
“Might he not do better still to practice a degree of continence, Mr Nick? The occasional indulgence at holiday time is not unreasonable, but one might expect a young Christian gentleman to at least give a nod towards chastity.”
Nick thought that to be a very strange concept.
“He is a rich young gentleman, Adkins. Christian behaviour is all very well for those who can afford nothing better, but he is not one of that sort. He has money in his pocket and, like any young man, will spend it on his bodily needs and comforts. While one might expect him to eventually practice a little of moderation, as a youth he will appreciate a warm armful on any and every possible occasion.”
Adkins was not convinced and wondered why the young man was not to become a soldier, to help him grow up.
“No fear of that, Adkins. He will be a man of business and affairs, but he will never wear a red coat.”
Adkins jocularly mentioned to Samuel the possibility he might take to the profession of arms. The very thought was firmly crushed.
“I have no desire whatsoever to indulge in such a pastime, Adkins. To go to war, firing a musket at people unknown to me and against whom I have no animus? No, Adkins, not for me!”
“You might consider a commission in the Militia, Master Samuel. The Militia are not to venture overseas, and five years would see you as a captain, which is a worthwhile title to add to your name.”
“No, Adkins. I do not need that title, and particularly am not willing to waste five years of my life in military idleness. The Militia have no great reputation, you know.”
Adkins did think that every man would benefit from a period of service in the military, but if his master was set against it, he would say no more.
Samuel had his own ideas and had already broached them to his mother. She had been impressed by the logic of setting up in the production of glass bottles.
“What does a glass manufactury require, Samuel?”
“Sand, coke and one at least of knowing men, Mother. I can find a man within the month – the son of Mr Higgins, a glassmaker in London. His third son, William, has no inheritance in the nature of things. Given the opportunity he would very happily bring himself north to build our glass cone and blow our bottles.”
“Is there sand close to hand, Samuel?”
“That, I do not yet know, ma’am. Mr Richard Rowlands has ridden much of the locality, has he not? Would he not know of the location of sands?”
“He should, Samuel, but he is capable of riding with his eyes shut, I believe. He is not the most perceptive of men. He is useful at talking to men of his social standing and those a little below him and of drumming up business from them, and we use him for that purpose only now. You will not repeat this, Samuel, but we keep Mr Richard Rowlands in our employ because his father has influence locally. Had he no father in the background, then he would have been paid off some time since.”
Samuel felt he was being treated as an adult, being given an insight into the secrets of the business. He was very proud that he showed grown up enough to be treated as a man.
“If you might permit, ma’am, I could visit at the pits and enquire of the managers there if they know of the geology of the locality. They are clever men, you have told me, and that is the sort of thing they might well know.”
“Sensible indeed, Samuel. Do so. If I were I you, I would go to Palethorpe pit first. We know that the local soils are not sandy here at Thornehills.”
“It would be useful indeed, ma’am, if there was sand close to the pit and the source of coke. Do we know if there is sand along the river, ma’am? If we could use barges for transport, we would break less of the glass.”
“There is talk of canals, of artificial rivers, to be built in the regions south of Liverpool and north of Birmingham. A substantial area and no such canal may come near us for all we know. The talk will as well likely take many years to become a reality. If I were I you, my son, I would keep an ear out for such chatter. I suspect canals might make money. A barge carrying ten tons of coal, or however much it may be, and towed by two horses perhaps, is liable to be cheaper than a wagon with its two tons on a muddy road.”
Samuel agreed, though he wondered if the turnpikes that were so much discussed as well might not be effective.
“They might. I do not know, my son. Find out!”
Samuel promised to do so. He would spend his next days discovering all he could of canals and turnpikes and sand.
“While I think of it, ma’am, there is a possibility that I might wish to rent a cottage for a year or two, or longer, for my own purposes…”
“I cannot imagine what such purposes might be, my son, and will beg of you not to explain them to the others in the house. Abraham need know nothing of such matters for the while. Discuss the business with Nick. The money will be found.”
“Thank you, ma’am. That is very good of you!”
“One cannot keep a young man from mischief, Samuel. Best therefore to ensure you are protected. Please to speak to Nick, as I said, and also ask him to explain certain illnesses to you.”
Samuel knew nothing of such matters. It transpired that Nick had sparse medical knowledge but possessed a vivid imagination. The little discussion served to render Samuel cautious all of his life, rigorously avoiding the less expensive purveyors of pleasure and thus protecting his health quite effectively.
Bragg knew some little of the local geology in the nature of things and could locate coarse sand with some exactitude. Finer beds were unknown to him.
“We shall see what we need when the occasion arises, Mr Bragg. For the moment, let us very quietly discover where the sands might be located.”
“West of Palethorpe by a few miles, sir, towards Maer and across to Chapel Chorlton. No great difficulty in finding land to purchase for sand pits, or so I might imagine, sir.”
“Good. There will be a young man coming up from London before too many weeks have passed, Mr Bragg. He is a knowing one when it comes to glass, brought up to the trade by his father. He will wish to set up a cone for the making of bottles, using coke as fuel. He will know much of the qualities of sand and of what may or may not be used for glass-making.”
“For the distilleries, no doubt, sir. A most sensible suggestion! Eventually, a coke oven at Palethorpe. For the while, wagonloads to be brought down from Thornehills. No sense going to the cost of another oven until we know it will work out. The
purchase of bricks might be wise, sir, for it takes some little time to bring them in by wagon. No doubt your young man will need many tens of thousands in the building of his glass foundry.”
Samuel had not considered all that must be arranged in advance if his great scheme was to come to fruition. Bragg, well aware of his young master’s greenness when it came to business, was quietly amused and willing to be helpful – there was no gain to him in seeing his firm go bankrupt and himself out of a job. It was necessary that the young man be successful and the extra profits would no doubt come his way in part.
“There might be much to be said for an engineer, Mr Bragg. A man with knowledge of building and mining and all of the skills associated with the creation of a new business.”
“Never heard of one of those, Mr Heythorne. An educated man, no less – where would we be finding such?”
“I cannot say, Mr Bragg. I have never met up with an educated man. I do not know that we have them in England.”
“Mr Malone might know, sir. He can find out, perhaps. A very knowing man, is Mr Malone. I expect he would be glad to be told of the glass cone being built in his town, sir.”
Samuel was surprised to hear that and noticed the emphasis that Bragg put on his words. It was evident that the mine manager strongly believed he should inform Mr Malone of all he was doing. He wondered why. He asked his mother at dinner that evening.
Josie was ready for the enquiry. It had seemed likely to her that her young son would discover the existence of Mr Malone and then fail to comprehend his nature.
“He is a man of importance in Stoke and the surrounding area, Samuel. He, to a great extent, keeps order in the town.”
“I thought the Mayor and Corporation did that, ma’am.”
“They do, to a lesser extent. They have no constables under their command. They have very little money to spend. They are, in effect, powerless. They do run a poorhouse and a charity hospital in the town, both of them too small to meet all the needs of the people. The Bench of Magistrates offers justice to those brought before them, but they have no power to catch malefactors first. Mr Malone supplies the missing authority – all unofficial, but very real. They sometimes call him the Upright Man, for keeping such order as exists.”
“How?”
“The businessmen of Stoke all pay him a small fee each week, and he will ensure that the thieves do not target them. There may be street theft – the raggedy boys may lift from them – but the burglars and housebreakers leave them alone. In the same way, the streetwalkers are protected from violence – it sometimes happens, but those who commit such crimes are rapidly discovered and then do not do so again. Because of Mr Malone, the truly wicked are restrained and the ordinarily criminals are made not to be outrageous and the town is more or less peaceful. Without him, the excesses of a Saturday night in the central streets would be the norm of every day over the whole of our town. You should pay him a visit and explain all that we have in mind to do. He has the right to know.”
It appeared very odd, but Samuel knew he must learn how the world about him truly ran its affairs.
“What is this of Saturday night, Mother?”
She explained in some detail, told him of the drunken bacchanals that outraged the decency of almost every great town in the country.
“When the people receive their pay, many of them spend it on excess of every kind. Your father once watched the proceedings from the spire of the church. He told me of all he saw. He was both amazed and sickened at the sight. The Mob was up, it seemed, and at its most unrestrained. Without some control – such as Mr Malone offers in the absence of any true authority – I suspect the whole town would be destroyed in a very few weeks. Always remember, my son, that the Mob is waiting and will rise given the opportunity. We choose to pay our workers and keep them away from the town as much as we can, living in the houses we have built away from the centre and buying their necessities from our store at the pithead itself…”
She let him ask her why.
“Not for love of our workers, I assure you, Samuel. Nor for a Christian heart beating in my bosom. It is done because it makes them more willing to labour for us and keeps them from excesses that might destroy their health and vitality. In a word, Samuel, Profit. Our workers are the better for our actions. It means that, wholly incidentally, they have happier lives. We make more money, which is far more important to us!”
It seemed very strange to Samuel. He had enjoyed a protected childhood, he supposed, and was innocent of the excesses of humanity.
“I shall speak with Mr Nick, Samuel. He will escort you into town on a Saturday and you may observe the Mob in his safe company – possibly from the same spire your father used. Only thus, I suspect, will you become aware of the true nature of the human being.”
Chapter Seven
Killing’s Reward
Section Two - AD 1765
“Mr Malone? I believe my guardian, Mr Nick, has mentioned that I would wish to meet you, sir.”
That sounded very clumsy, stilted, in Samuel’s ears. He would have to give his name at the chambers Mr Malone used - as if he were an attorney-at-law - protected by an outer office containing a so-called clerk. Nick had warned Samuel that he must be polite to the man in the outer office, he being by way of a bodyguard to Mr Malone. Mr Malone would know who he was; he would not have to establish his own identity.
Minutes earlier, Samuel strode, confident-seeming, down the main street in Stoke, hoping his face did not show his doubts about the coming meeting. He must play the man’s part, junior to Mr Malone and far younger, hence deferential, but by no means obsequious. He should display courtesy and expect such in return, avoiding any suggestion of arrogance or social superiority. It was not easy. It was necessary, however.
Nick had suggested that Mr Malone could be requested to pay a visit at Thornehills, but it would be a call upon his mother, with Samuel to be introduced as no more than a boy, her juvenile son. Better to establish that he was to play the man’s role, was emancipated from the schoolroom, was his own man, albeit young yet.
The doors to a modest set of chambers were in front of him. Good, solid timber, he noticed, with heavy brass fitments – an announcement of prosperity, authority as well. They opened easily on well-oiled hinges – no creaking here. The room inside was panelled in oak in the old-fashioned way. There was a chest-high counter with the clerk sat behind on a high stool. Nick had suggested that there were a number of surprises hidden behind the counter for the benefit of the unwarily aggressive. Samuel took care not to find out.
“Good morning. My name is Mr Samuel Heythorne. I believe I am expected and am to see Mr Malone at about ten o’clock.”
The clerk showed himself prepared.
“Good morning, Mr Heythorne. Mr Malone is awaiting you, sir. Please come in.”
The clerk lifted the counter on a flap and drew back a bolt to open a gate to allow Samuel to pass. Nick had told him to observe the counter, out of the corner of his eye in passing.
‘Thick timbers, built over stone!’
Samuel realised that the piece of innocent office furniture might well stop a cannonball. Mr Malone did not intend to permit the unwelcome to force themselves on his attention.
The clerk saw Samuel’s surprise and grinned, saying nothing. He knocked on an inner door and put his head through.
“Mr Heythorne is here, sir.”
The doorkeeper – a better title than clerk, Samuel suspected – turned sideways to allow the young man through, displaying a great mass of chest and shoulders in the process.
“Thank you.”
He walked in to discover an office a good twenty feet square with Mr Malone advancing from behind a huge desk, hand outstretched.
They shook, both offering a properly firm but not crushing grip, and offered the greetings of equals.
Samuel was seated in a comfortable armchair in the corner of the room, Mr Malone opposite to him rather than sat in mastery behind his desk.
“Thank you for seeing me, Mr Malone. I know you are a busy man. I felt I should meet you because I am to take an increasing part in our businesses over the next three years, sir, until I reach the age of majority when I am to become master. I would add, sir, that I am aware of the long and inspired hours of work put in by my mother and have every expectation that she will continue in her present functions until she wishes to espouse an easier existence. It is our intention that I shall be concerned mostly with the expansion of our affairs into new fields.”
Mr Malone smiled, attempting to show amiable without actually opening his mouth to show a poor man’s set of teeth, ruined by early malnutrition in Ireland.
“Mrs Heythorne has an enviable reputation in our little world, Mr Heythorne. I have worked with her these many years since your poor father’s early demise and have great admiration for her abilities. I do not doubt you have inherited her acumen, sir.”
Samuel noted Mr Malone did not hope that he had inherited his father’s skills and abilities. He wondered why.
“It is my hope, Mr Malone, to enter the field of bottle making in the first instance. Our distilleries use large numbers of glass bottles, as you must know, and fully a quarter of those which reach us come cracked or actually broken by bouncing about on the highways. I have met with a gentleman who owns a glass blowers in London – I was there recently – who has a son of an age to become his own man and looking for a manufactury to manage. I intend to bring him up to Palethorpe and to construct a glass cone there. There will obviously be a call for men to work in the new enterprise and for carriers to bring loads of sand and, in the first instance, coke from the Thornehills’ oven.”
Killing's Reward Page 9
